Heroes Of Our Time
by RoseOfTheNight4444
Summary: Kaaena the Khajiit is one born of 6 heroes - her parents & grandparents - & aches to walk in their footsteps. However, people & events become roadblocks in her path as well as lessons for the rest of her life. Who is this Khajiit/Orismer/Bosmer hybrid you ask? It's a mystery... Mods such as Inigo the follower & the horse Blaze of Eventide R included! Leave a review if U like this!
1. Runes To My Memory

**I have no words to say, enjoy the my newest story!**

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><p><strong>Part 1: A Beast Am I<strong>

"Where did that cat run off to this time?" I overheard a guard say spitting to the stone path as three of them, armed dangerously with finely forged bows and swords with their matching shields, approached the dense wilderness that I sought refuge inside of. I crept in place out of sight on one side of a tree.

"Only the Gods know. It's no surprise since the Khajiit are excellent at hiding." Another said huffing and puffing due to Skyirm's chilly air. I had led them on a good run, I did.

"But did she really have to scamper off into the forest so close to the Spriggans and other creatures?" A third finished saying before the leader reassured their safety and guided the trio to venture in a different direction, falling for my false decoy of a foul stench that would eventually lead them straight towards the Spriggans and their enthralled animals. This lure would only work for so long until they fought what defended these woods and then resumed their search for my hide.

I closely watched them pass by my location behind the trunk of a tree, to validate their departure so that if I were to reveal myself, my cover would not be blown. Seeing all clear, now was my chance to run but I did not hightail it as I previously planned. My body had been pushed to the limit when they chased me many miles away from Markarth and into the Rift. My legs immediately became like cobbler; feeble and lacking the ability to support themselves let alone the entire weight of my whole body. I could not initiate myself to flee from this place, the only choice, not that I made one, was to drop my sorry carcass to the ground, leaning my back against the tree. Though I did not want to admit it, I needed to catch a breath from the chase I had been on; I have been put through much worse than this during my days as part of the Dark brotherhood and being a Companion so why was running from three townsguards so immensely and unnervingly complicated?

Scanning the area at the sound of buzzing and warcries, I knew the trio of simpletons had discovered the Spriggans. I estimated anywhere from now to several minutes that they'd down them all and then target me once more. I had to get up despite the pain and numbness - I had no time to lose! My efforts to stand up were made worthless when an exposed wound stung horribly to the point of crying out in pain, nearly to the point of revealing my position to my enemies. I cringed, gritting my teeth, closing my eyes and praying to Azurah to guide my steps as twlight covered Nirn, the Forest Gods to safekeep the creatures of this forest who have died by the hands of the guards (as they all have died nobly, defending an ally from death even at the cost of their own lives), Malacath to bring curses upon my foes who hate me as much as I hate them, and Hircine for the self-control needed to bare the upcoming wrath I knew would follow shortly; being a tri-breed with extra zeal is more complicated than one might think in terms of worshipping whom. I focused myself to keep the wound that I had not previously known about from spilling out any further and in due course be the death of me.

"This way, I think I heard something!" In the distance were the three worn out guards wanting nothing more than to capture me, imprison me, and, of course, drink their damned mead. The more I fought the pain, the worse it tortured my very being; forcing an inner beast wanting to leap out to have its way and hunt. I loathed being chased by prey who think they are predators; I would rather be shamed by weaklings than admitting that escape is inevitable when I am cornered like this, though. The only thing worse than admitting defeat is that a Lycan such as myself needing to escape in the first place.

Barely conscious and able to defend myself due to the pain and rage within, I looked to the sky to verify its going-ons. The night had just about dawned and the stars began to show themselves; it would be a pair of full moons tonight; the heavenly bodies have been acting strange as of late - not very many days ago, maybe a week or more, there was only one moon full and now, suddenly, two of them when the lunar cycle had not even gone around fully on both Secunda and Masser? Surely, a Blood Moon is afoot with this kind of activity.

Blood's stench is more than my nose can handle; both from my wound and from the fools that may or may not have my head. My heart is pounding in my chest as the sweat runs cold down my back. "Oh no, it has already begun…"

"Search in the trees! She has to be here, it's the only place we have not looked!" Said one of the other two guards.

The need to hunt down these morons became harder and harder to suppress. But that still small Voice in my mind kept repeating gentle words to me,

'Do not fight the thrill any longer, they are easy prey to maul but a challenge to chase.'

I forced my eyes shut, not wanting to shed anymore blood than I already had. In trying to eliminate a few Forsworn in Markarth, my assault had accidentally killed a citizen. In so doing, I now am here pathetically running from those who have a bounty on my head; from those who could easily be my dinner.

'Their skin is tasty and their blood savory. Go, now, while they think they have you where they want you.' Whispered the Voice.

My now amber eyes opened wide, seeing nothing but the crimson hue that would soon stain these roads. The light I see is too bright and too vivid. Smells I normally never notice are suddenly overpowering; like the fear I sense from one of the guards who in turn sensed a change nipping the air like a rabid hound.

"Do…any of you feel that?" The fearful guard said, stopping in his tracks, some few yards away.

"Feel what?" Another replied, stopping also.

"It's a dark and strange feeling. Almost like a hunger."

"Come now, be reasonable. Other than the forest animals we already have slain, what else could be out here other than that stupid cat?" The second laughed.

The laugh caused an eerily growl to emerge from my throat that they heard but could not trace.

"Please say that I am not the only one who heard that…" Quivered the terrified guard. My mind could not make up whether or not he should be first to devour due to his stupidity compared to the other two or if he should be saved last, savoring the chase to make it more rewarding.

In this turmoil of my third-ever Shifting, the smallest sounds are now deafening; like the whimpers this laughable fool of a guard makes at the idea of looking through the area for a sound they all heard.

"No," I thought, fighting the temptation to kill and decimate them. "Giving in would not win me any kind of reward."

'Why do you tussle with the unavoidable, my dear? I have waited many years to see what you are capable of.' The Voice persuaded. 'Make your Master proud. Bring me glory and you shall surely be rewarded.'

The Shift was not subtle on the outside but unlike the last time, there was no control; at least, not in morality's definition, anyway. The other half of me that was no warrior but some mad-woman had finally opened the door to the realm of the here and now. This is my inherited "gift" by my father? Why did it take its time to come out instead of existing from birth? I suppose I should be pleased that I was not born a monster…

At the moment of the Shift near its final changes, there was at first fear; fear in that the power surging through my veins was unlike any other. Then disorientation; the inability to comprehend the current events set in motion. And then agonizing pain as my body lengthens and my bones contort to their required measurements; growth to become the monster my Master gifted me to be. And finally, the worst and also the best of all, having the urge to hunt and all-consuming lust for blood. I ran, without controlling where my corporal self sets out to go, close to the ground with the air burning my lungs. My claws are razors, my teeth, daggers. Slowly but surely, conscious thought fades. I am his now; his Hound. His commands burn within my mind as I roar with a fierce hunger and howl of despair of what would soon be the Blood Red Moon. The Hunt of Hircine has begun and I WILL kill tonight.

The three men saw my Lycan form and immediately attacked without hesitation. Surrounded by trees, they had little room to run. The first one, I detached his head from his body before he could take out his sword. Indeed, this felt wonderful. Oh, but if it weren't for the beastblood, my Khajiit self would be in mourning. The second became a nuisance with his arrows and nearly shot me in the eyes, I leaped over the dead log that was in my way between me and him and onto him, pinning him to the ground, and slashing at his body with my claws; ripping him to unrecognizable shreds. And the third and final man was cowering in fear. All I needed to do to initiate the chase I so desperately wanted was simply to look him straight in the eyes. The moment he fled down the road towards Lake Geir, I had already caught up to him. It was quite a ways to actually trap him within my grasp but the chase was well worth my while. Like the one before, I had him and held him tightly with my strong arms, and bit his neck four times, two each for either side; savoring the taste of the flowing blood that spilled forth from his body. With a victorious howl, I fed upon him right there in the open road.

Unfortunately, thus, my time as Werewolf had ran out and so did my luck. The Riften guards had followed the trail to the commotion they noticed and where I had only my first meal of the hunt. This ill-fated moment was made worse by the fact that I more or less have broke the Green Pact by wasting meat, if they should surely capture and imprison me. Oh, how troubled I was for sure. My strength left me unconscious and exposed on the road, I would now awake in my normal appearance.

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><p><strong>Part 2: Reasons To Live<strong>

The queasiness in my stomach churned until it made my head spin faster than my speedy horse whose whereabouts I knew nothing of. The banging in my mind was as if I had been hit with a shovel to the back of my head. I knew something had gone horribly wrong, I just couldn't remember what. All I could do was sit up, holding my aching head in hand and groan. Discernment of the shouting guards nearby was not possible as their voices were but muffled cries about Gods-know-what. My vision was just as blurry as my hearing was stifled when I tried to assess the situation. The guards were running towards me with their weapons drawn. In my dizzy state, I'm surprised I could even acknowledge that they were doing so.

Despite this, I groggily pan my head around the area to see if there were any thieves or bandits that may have caught the attention of these ruffled guards. There were none. What captured my tired eyes, however, was a body gnawed on, fresh by the neck and everywhere else. I asked myself the obvious question - who or what did this? Surely it wasn't me…was it?

Every thing my eyes laid on suddenly went back to normal speed the moment I realized the guards targeted me for whatever happened on this road. I was too fatigued to defend myself. And they were all too eager to put me behind bars.

"Finally found you, cat!" Said the first guard. "You're a tough girl to catch after a slaughter like this!"

My throat was so dry that no response left my lips.

"Who would have thought a feline like you could have caused a dog-sized massacre?" Said another guard. My ears barely flattened to show my anger and I couldn't growl correctly. Innocent or not, no amount of fighting will save me if I cannot even carry myself to get out of this thing. It might be best to let them take me into a cell for the night, if I am ever-so lucky to only be imprisoned for that amount of time, to recuperate and then after rest and gain nourishment, I can plead innocent. And that is exactly what I decided. I reluctantly turned myself in. They dragged me and then threw me into Mistveil Keep. At least amidst the chaos, I knew where I was near. As to why I ended up in the Rift is another matter.

They dragged me down and into the keep, they threw me into the nearest cell to the left and I hit the floor like a plump bag of gold - though, I sure didn't feel treated as gold, that is for sure. Slamming and locking the door tight, I crawled my way into the nearest cot. I curled up in a cold ball, trying to make sense as to why someone as innocent as me would be locked up. I only wish to become a powerful warrior like my parents and grandparents. How did my life turn around when I had just got myself in a good place. Wait a minute, how did I end up in Skyrim? Not moments ago, it seems, I was with my friends in Solstheim!

I could not believe I didn't realize where I was the moment I woke up, even in my state of mind. I know Skyrim's soil too well. How did this happen?

"Hey there, pretty kitty…" I looked up and there sat a drunken Nord in his cell next to me, distracting me from my contemplation of my horrid life. And it appears that whilst looking at his flirtatious and ugly face, it got worse. "What are you in for? Being good-lookin'?"

Oh, how I had wished harming another were permitted at this moment.

"Shut it, Nord!" I hissed.

"It's not my fault if the Gods allowed me to admire a vessel like yourself on this glorious day." The human said slurring his speech.

"What are you blabbering about, you imbecile?"

"You wear that fur often or just for hardy Nords like me?" The man wore a cheeky and perverse smile.

Were it not the fact that my fur was nearly as pale as snow to begin with, you'd swear I was the first and only red-colored cat.

I looked down at my body, praying by the Twin Moons my dignity and honor were not stripped from me. The answer to my prayer did not work out in my favor…

Nearly jumping out of the cot, I frantically searched for something, anything to cover my nakedness with. Fortunately, the pelt on the floor was enough to bury my head under but not my embarrassment. I could hear the Nord's intoxicated cackles from outside my refuge of deer hide. Just when I thought he would reach through to touch me inappropriately, an unlikely and unexpected savior walked in.

"Settle down, Rakovaar! Don't make me throw you in with the thieves in the Ratway."

"Aw, come on, guardy, I was only making nice to the cat here…can't fault a man for wanting a little fun, huh?" The man's poor taste in words was almost as bad as his breath.

"Quiet! You're in this cell for disturbing the peace with your drunken slurs; I'll not have you disturb what little peace we prison-sitters have already." With that, the fool sulked and sat not mouthing a whisper in the corner of his cell; possibly already passing out due to his hangover. "As for you, feline, here's your jail clothes. What some witnesses saw you do will you put you in here for time that is for us to know and you to find out. You will be in here for a long time - enjoy your stay!" The guard chuckled, handing me clothing through the bars, which fell to the dirty floor, and ambled back to his post at the entrance. Laying back in my cot, I perked my ears to the voices around the corner. I could overhear one of the guard's buddies say "Good thing you gave that bitch-cat her clothes or the eyes of every person in here would have fallen out of their sockets!"

"Not according to Rakovaar, he may be drunk now but perhaps he went blind too! I mean, did you see those tusks on her? How could he possibly be attracted to THAT?!" An echo of laughter carried through the hallway and chilled my spine. All I wanted to do was pick a lock and claw their faces in. Who do they think they are calling me names? And for what reason?

As much as the ache for destruction had been too great for me, the sadness I felt was greater. I was too busy silently crying to myself to notice a shifting sound in the cot adjacent to me.

"Come to kill me at last have you? Thank the Gods, I can bear the guilt no longer." A Khajiit voice said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" I replied over my shoulder, hastily wiping my tears away.

"I know I must die. Beware though, my newfound honor demands I defend myself."

I sat up looking up at this fellow who shares the same blood as me.

"I am not going to kill you, I do not even know who you are. I have been imprisoned for a crime I do not remember committing so…"

"I am in no mood for jokes." He interrupted. "Strike me down, take your revenge!"

I looked at this strange Khajiit with confusion.

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about. Who are you?" A headache began to emerge. I noted the irony of this pain after he had said 'take your revenge'. Perhaps this agony and this Khajiit are linked somehow?

"You don't remember?" He answered, breaking my thoughts. "Ah, that is my fault also. I am your so-called friend Inigo. I was the one who killed you - I tried, anyway. I am guilty, kill me!" He pleaded.

Despite having never met this Khajiit, I felt sorry for him. I could tell that he was sincere in his eyes. The very fact that he was sounding sincere made me feel like he was telling the truth. Still, this whole situation amused me, being that this all very well could be true; after all, the recent past is blurry and now here I lay on a cot in prison with a Khajiit who claims to have nearly murdered me. Surely, I must make sense of all this.

"You didn't do a very good job, did you? Is that why you are here?" I asked him.

"Yes, sometime after I shot you, I realized my mistake, I turned myself in. I told the local guards but your body was gone. The fools didn't believe me, said I was wasting my time. I had to pay them to put me in this cell. It's where I belong. I needed to repent - I need to repent."

"If you thought I was dead then why are you here waiting for me?" I asked, still trying to piece together this puzzle full of puzzlement.

"Two months ago, I heard tales of a stranger in this land. They said this individual killed twenty bandits single-handed. I knew it was you, it had to be! I knew you would be coming for me so I waited. Are you going to kill me or not?"

"Kill you for what? I don't recall your face or your attempt at murder. I don't remember what happened." I said leaning my back against the wall at the head of the cot.

"I see I must relive it again, your memory is not what it was. We met on job."

"What kind of job?"

"The killing kind. We were hired by a lord called Dupan to kill his brothers. With them gone, Dupan would inherit a great fortune and promised us much gold in return. Do you remember none of this?" He asked with as much dumbfoundment as I had for this story even truly happening.

"No, go on. This headache of mine could very well be further explained if your story is true."

"But it is true! To prove myself, I will continue. Okay, before we left, Dupan told me that if only one of us returned from our mission, that one would get the other's reward also. I was hooked on Skooma at the time and I had a bit of a debt problem, so…"

"You tried to kill me for my half of the reward?" I asked with a hint of rage within. I felt a bloodlust wanting to unleash itself that felt so familiar yet so foreign. This notion of greed Inigo was displaying could be the culprit. I forced myself to calm down, remembering that his story might be the reason why my memory is so hazy.

"Yes, I tried, that's what matters. It wasn't an easy choice. We only knew each other for a short time but I'd grown to like and respect you. We got on well and fought bravely side by side. I threw all that away for gold and Skooma."

Sensing his regret dripping in his words, the bloodlust lifted and it transformed into the kindness and compassion my mother had taught me to have always.

"Did you get the reward?"

"Heh heh, no. Dupan was murdered by his sister before I made it back to his keep. Our deal died with him. Money is an evil like no other, my friend. It is only just that I die at your hand."

"Are you still hooked on Skooma?" I asked ignoring his last comment, as I had no intention on killing someone who regrets their choices and wishes to repent. Although, Skooma addicts have been known to say bizarre things…

"No, I have been clean since the…incident. I wanted to die with my senses intact. Kill me now, I am ready." My previous thoughts of compassion only became stronger as he persisted; I knew my moral code that I adhere to believed firmly in another form of redemption for this poor soul.

"No, more bloodshed will not resolve this mess, no matter how tempting it might be for someone with a warrior's spirit and skill. You're no good to me dead in this cell; especially since I already have been tried for murder, myself. I do not wish to prolong my sentence longer than it already is. Instead of revenge by payment of your bloodshed, why don't you come with me once we both are out of here and fight by my side?"

"I…fight with you?" He said with his ears erect in surprise.

"Yes, Inigo. If your specific payment of debt is required and there is no other way, pay your debt with the blood of my foes -"

"Or die defending you!" With excitement in his voice, he had quickly caught on. "Yes, I accept! I feel lighter in my heart now that you have given me this opportunity. It will be like old times."

"Just try not to shoot me again." I said smirking.

"Do not joke about such things, my friend. The sadness I feel for what I have done is brutal enough."

"Very well. If you put aside your regret for right now, I will say no more."

"Deal." Shaking on it, I felt that this odd friendship might end up being more than what I see now.

A few hours later of on and off rest and contemplation, a guard came to our cell.

"Well, Miss Priss, you are free to leave." He said unlocking the cell door with a handful of what looked like my old armor and weapons.

"I'm sorry, what?" I said in astonishment.

"Did I stutter? Go, get out of here."

"I thought I was in here for life or along those lines?"

"We thought so too until a man who smelled like wet dog came by and gave us a pretty penny to pay us to get you out of here."

"Wait, what? What was he wearing?" Inigo looked at me curiously as I asked this.

"How should I remember? I demanded to know why the courier needed to do this and all he told me was that it was by a family member who apparently is the source of the mutt smell, said it was anonymous and that to give you a verbal message. His message was, 'Do not fear, young pup, for when the moons frost over, the fire in your heart will be no more.' Whatever that means." He said rolling his eyes.

I almost teared up. I never knew I meant that much to Majni. As the guard went back to his duties, Inigo gave me a puzzled look.

"I do not understand…" He said.

"Don't worry, let's go find the nearest inn and stay the night after I change into my armor. I'll tell you everything the next morning." Inigo nodded in agreement and after he turned around and I had put on my Stalhrim armor and sheathed my matching weapons, off we went to the Bee and the Barb.

Once we got there and had a drink of milk or two, we asked Keerava for a room. Ignoring the commotion between the inn's owners and the Priest of Mara going on in the center of the lodging, we made our way to our room after grabbing a bite to eat. Setting up for the night, we both laid in our separate beds. Inigo turned on his left side and I simply laid on my back, staring at the wooden ceiling, sifting through all that has happened to me, trying to recall what the guards had said before they hauled me into Mistveil Keep.

All at once, the bloodlust I had felt earlier all made sense. Yes, of course! I was put in jail for assaulting someone, or more than one person, as it were, as a Werewolf! This would explain the guard's "dog" remark and my memory of the Frostmoon Pack back in Solstheim. Blinking mindlessly, my pondering made my headache clear and go away. In fact, most of my memory came back to me. The ones before I met Inigo, at least. Any recollection of being in cahoots with him still made no travel to comprehension. I did not question who I was when I awoke and was imprisoned, but my pounding headache made me forget everything for that while. Shifting into what I believe was my second Lycan transformation at Frostmoon Crag must've been detrimental to my morale. I killed people. Not for trying to rob me on the roads or anything of the like, but killing them in cold blood for no apparent reason. Yes, some of it all makes sense now. My transformation must've controlled me that second time under the command of Lord Hircine and the length of time that I had killed those innocent people and luck had turned against me; I had become only partial of what I was due to that transformation. I ran away from my pack without much control of anything and that fight within between morality and immortality nearly devoured me. Which means the third time, being the most recent with the guards, had became the third stage of completion in separation of my morale; Gods only know that my personality might leave me a fourth time. Inigo said he came to like and respect me. The guise where my immorality took the form of my morality played Inigo so easily during that time with him before now; and yet my morality tried to fight. The bloodlust within was the reason I took that job. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't put on the Ring of Hircine that night of the full moon in Solstheim…

Sighing loudly, I became very troubled by remembering some of my past. I knew eventually that I would have to tell my new companion about all that has happened to me. But when?

"Something the matter, friend?" Jolting nearly out of my skin, the quiet of the room had made Inigo's whisper sound like a Thu'um. "Forgive me for startling you, I could not help but notice you were lost in thought." He said now laying on his right side, facing my side of the room.

"Yes, I was…" I admitted yet wished I hadn't done so.

"What is on your mind?"

I did not want him to know immediately what I had been thinking, for it might be too soon but I knew he needed to know sooner or later.

"Plenty." I said with a stoic and reluctant manner.

"Well," He sat up on his bed facing me. "Then by all means, spill your thoughts out like a rushing waterfall. I am here for you."

Inigo's kindness caught my attention; I didn't realize just how loyal he was. With this in mind, I knew I could trust him, at least for now.

"To be honest, Inigo," I sat up in like manner, also. "I do not have a clue where to begin."

"All I ask is that you do not hesitate to keep anything from me, I am a good listener."

Nodding, I said, "Very well. I suppose I am curious of who you are," I lied to him as tomorrow is when I would tell him, as I already told him I would speak to him the next morning. Tonight, I must truly see if I can trust him first. "I do not foresee how we can go on without some insight on each other, correct?"

"Agreed." He replied with a smile. "But first, I must know your name. I never was given the chance to ask before I…made that mistake."

"Kaaena." I didn't know if I should've told him but I sort of blurted it out, anyhow. Besides, he hasn't shown signs that I shouldn't trust him thus far just for knowing my name.

"Kaaena (pretty name, by the way), where would you like ME to start?"

This was perfect, I could insert whatever I wished wherever I felt the need rather than pouring it all out at once. In turn, I could find out about my troubled friend, here.

"Tell me about your past, and I'll see if I cannot reflect back with my own past events."

"Okay. I am not an only child, I have one brother. My brother and I never knew our real parents. We were found abandoned in a smelly shack by a soldier on his way to battle. We melted his heart with our fuzzy little faces and he carried us to the nearest town. He deposited us at an orphanage and that is where we spent most of our childhood." Inigo told me.

"At least you were discovered and not completely be left for dead, yes?"

"Indeed."

"Were you two eventually adopted?"

"Yes, my brother and I were adopted by a couple of retired assassins."

"Was it difficult for you in the orphanage?"

"I was bullied by the other Khajiit children because of my unusual color and markings. My mother showed me a handy trick with a rock and a glove. I was never bothered again."

"I don't find anything unusual about you, though. Even if you are an odd color, this does not change that you are of my blood." Inigo simply bowed his head in thanks to my comment and continued.

"My father showed my brother and I how to use a sword, my mother taught us the bow. Happy childhood memories."

"Interesting. My father is an Orc and he taught me how to use axes and my mother being half-Bosmer, half-Khajiit, taught me how to use a bow."

"How amusing," He began to say. "My foster mother was Khajiit but my foster father was Argonian. Some people found their union hard to understand - they were just mother and father to me."

We both laughed and I concurred with him on his last point. "However, I'm sad to say that my mother and father are both gone. They died protecting a trading caravan a few years back. I guess I'm an orphan again. "

"Where did you grow up?" I asked with a grave voice tone, empathizing with him but unable to comprehend this as without my parents I would not be who I am today.

"I grew up in Riverhold, not far from Cyrodiil. My brother and I headed for the Imperial city to find our fortune when we came of age. We never made it to the City but we made a lot of coin as we had much work as mercenaries. During that time, I found love, for a time at least. My brother found death."

"I am sorry for your loss, Inigo. For all three of your losses."

"You are kind. Thank you."

"How did your brother pass away?"

"I awoke one morning to a lot of noise outside our tent. My brother staggered in bleeding and pushed our father's sword into my hand. He said that if I loved him I would run. He used the last of his strength to rip out the back of the tent and push me down the slope beyond. Some Khajiit-hating locals blamed us for a spate of robberies in the area and had decided to take matters into their own hands. Twelve of them had snuck up on us on the same night. My brother died but I live because of him."

"Your brother sounds honorable. Fortunately for me, I stayed out of the way of anyone who hate our kind."

"He was honorable. He would have agreed with me when I say you are a clever girl to not meddle in the affairs of individuals like those!"

I blushed slightly to this but shrugged it off.

"I was recruited by a group of bandits a few years ago. That's when I discovered Skooma. It was the beginning of a lot of nastiness."

"I'm sure, Inigo."

"I was with a bandit girl for a while. Turns out she was just using me. She wanted protection not affection."

"How vain." I said.

"As soon as she found someone more psychotic, I was dropped like a sack of troll dung."

"That irks me that there are people in this world like that."

"I second that. But I left the bandits and took the only man I trusted with me. He was an addict like me but we thought we had it under control. His name was Felix. He was a big fellow, good in a scrap. We became sellswords together. After a few months, Felix and I had made quite a name for ourselves, but our addiction to Skooma was getting in the way. No one trusts an addict, my friend, especially another addict. One day, Felix bursts into my chamber, instinct took over and I reacted. His murder was my second last step on the road to dishonor. Trying to kill you was my last. That is my story. Not a happy one, but perhaps the happy stuff is still to come."

"Thank you for telling me your story, Inigo."

"You're welcome, my friend. Any other questions?"

"Yes, what was your brother's name?" I queried, in need of more detail.

"He was called Fergus. Our parents enjoyed unusual names (They also called us by nicknames of Sky and Sun due to our fur colors)."

"Unusual is good. Who wants to be normal?" I stated with my palms laid out in the air on either side of me.

"Not me! Normal is boring. To think my mother almost called me J'zargo. What an uneventful life I would have had." He chuckled to himself.

"They are rather funny, at least in Khajiit terms."

"Fergus and Inigo might sound funny to you but I like them."

"What was your brother like?"

"He was my best friend. He is with the Gods now, if you believe in such things. Maybe he's waiting for me in the afterlife."

"I find more comfort to know that loved ones are in a dreamless sleep until the Gods call them home."

"Interesting belief. Well, I hope you are right. He always said I would make something of myself. I do not wish to prove him wrong."

"I'm sure, I mean, you had an addiction and then quit. Giving up Skooma must have been hard. Your brother would be proud of you." I smiled proudly.

"Yes, giving up Skooma is the hardest thing I have ever done. I still feel the need from time to time but I will not give into temptation."

"Did your brother ever use Skooma?"

"No. He was wiser than me. He was always the better man. I wish I could be more like him."

"The very fact that you wish to be is one step closer to being so."

His eyes gleamed with hope.

"Thank you, thank you so much, I needed to hear that." My face shone with happiness. This friendship would definitely mean something in the long run.

"Were you always close?" I asked him.

"Always. As soon as we were old enough to get into scrapes, we always had each other's backs. He was the finest swordsmen I ever knew."

"You're no slouch with the sword, I'm sure. He must've been amazing."

"He was outstanding! If his killers hadn't taken us unaware, he would have ended them all."

Noticing his weapons by his bed, I became curious.

"Do those Ebony weapons that you own belong to your parents?"

"No. I liberated them from a tomb some time ago. I sold my mother's and father's weapons for Skooma money. Such a loss."

"Will you ever try to get them back?"

"My mother's bow and my father's sword are long gone now. I doubt I will see them again. If you ever hear anything about them though, let me know."

"Believe me, I will."

He yawned a great yawn only fit for those who need a good night's rest.

"How long have we been laying here, chitchatting?"

"A half-hour at best."

"I think now is a good time to sleep, yes?"

"My eyes have grown weak, so I cannot refuse…"

"Goodnight Kaaena. Perhaps tomorrow, I can hear more about yourself?" He turned on his side again.

"We'll see. Goodnight Inigo."

As soon as I said this, I heard him softly snoring. And as fast I noticed this, I too, drifted off to sleep.

"Now then," Inigo remarked after sitting comfortably in his seat at our table we settled in for the morning before officially taking leave. "We have our bread and milk, chicken eggs and cheese, baked potatoes and delicious venison stew; after paying for this wonderful meal, you most certainly owe me an explanation of your own past. Not only did I assume last night would bring me some answers, I instead answered your own and was promised that my questions might be quenched with responses this morning. So, please, start talking." My furry friend facetiously told me with an equally witty half grin.

"Yes, I do owe you plenty of answers. I will ask you what you asked me last night; where would you like me to start?"

"It is clear we both have a unique appearance. Why don't we start off by how yours came to be?"

"Alright, but I do not recall you telling me why your fur is a bluish-purple color, though?"

"No matter, this discussion is focused on you," He said, completely avoiding my statement, hiding this as a secret possibly or simply impatiently interested in my words or both. Dismissing this, I began with a question in mind.

"Might I ask why you wish to hear from me so fervently?"

"Other than getting to know you better? My parents used to read to me in bed. I used to pretend I was ill so I could hear more tales of adventure. I still love a good story."

Understanding this, I pondered where to start my tale and went from there.

"Well, since I assume that your fur color is natural despite its uniqueness, I will tell you firsthand that mine is as well. This part of my appearance was most definitely decided by the Twin Moons; as for the rest of my visage is in due part to my biology - my parents." Clearing my throat after a sip of sweet tasting milk, I continued. "As I mentioned last night, my father was an Orc and my mother half-Khajiit."

"I vaguely remember this piece of information," Inigo pointed out rubbing his chin before taking a bite from his stew. "Some parts of the conversation are blurred but do not worry, I haven't lost all memory. Go on."

"I inherited my father's tusks that you see and my mother's Khajiit blood - however, since she is only partially Khajiit, the other part of her blood is Bosmer. This is where I inherited the markings upon my face from. Hers were painted on her face as warpaint whereas mine were given to me at birth. Which is strange considering their pattern resembles more the Khajiit heritage than my Bosmer heritage, nonetheless, passersby instinctively recognize this warpaint as Bosmer, so I do not question."

I noticed his eyes drifting to the places of mention, wandering on my features, analyzing my words to see if truth was there.

"I truly see why they would think that. Still, these traits give you a most peculiar look. Agile and silent yet fierce and deadly."

"Ironically, that is exactly how my parents trained me." I shined a prideful and almost patriotic smile. Inigo responded with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Well, I certainly hope to see the results of their upbringing soon." He said to me.

"Without a doubt you will, one way or another."

"Which of your parents were you closer with? Or did they both mean something to you equally?"

"I had never really thought about it, I love them both dearly but I have to say I emulate my mother more than my father; which is odd considering…" I had almost told him about the Beastblood. I was hesitant, and I was frightened. What would my newfound friend think of me if he knew?

"Considering what, Kaaena?"

"Well, let's just say we are more alike in some ways…" I said scratching the back of my head.

"How so?" Inigo inquisitively asked as he took a bite of his cheese.

"Uh…" I nearly hesitated again. "Mostly in fighting style. Other Khajiit are usually more silent techniques to kill and carry lighter weapons; I however, do not care for daggers and the like. Hence why you see me carrying a few battleaxes." He nodded in understanding.

"I presumed this upon seeing those. You mentioned how your parents taught you the bow and battleaxe respectively. Do you have other weapons and skills, as well?"

"Yes. To sum up, my father taught me how to use the heavier weapons and how to use brute-force while my mother trained me in the ways of light weaponry and stealth."

"Quite interesting. While I know I can be stealthy if need be, didn't their teachings conflict with one another in your mind?" He pointed out.

"One would think so but in actuality, no. I prefer both the stealthy and non-stealthy approach. Perhaps that is why I cannot truly say who I am closer to. It all depends on the situation. The same applies to my combat style. Here, let me show you my collection of weapons."

I knew he might want to see or hear of other topics but the honor of my Orismer blood demanded I revel in my showpieces in my travel bag.

One at a time, I showed him the different weaponry I collected over the years. Firstly, I showed him the Stalhrim battleaxe, Stahlrim sword and shield, Stalhrim waraxes and Stalhrim bow with their chosen Riekling Spears used as arrows; all save for the shield that carried Frost damage. Naturally, it was only decent I show him that I possess the ability to wield Frostbite in the palm of my hands.

"Where did you acquire such interesting arsenal?" He questioned.

"That is a tale for some other day. Let me show you a weapon with a tale I can tell now."

Next I showed him the trinket of a staff - it was known as the Rose of the Night; it looked very similar to the Sanguine Rose but it worked in a different manner. "This staff produces a cloud of darkness that either blinds enemies or consumes them, depending on the time of the day. The latter occurs during nightfall. This staff was very sentimental to me, as I had found it in my caravan trading days. It happened to be lying on the dead mage that attacked us along the roads. It became a part of me, as if it were fate that led me to it."

"Fascinating." Looking further into my bag, he noticed what looked like fire. "Do I see something glowing?"

"Yes. What you see are these rather odd couple of weapons I have, both Daedric. A battleaxe and sword that have fiery damage. I only ever wield these when my anger is nearly as heated as they are."

"I'm sure. Oh my," He said to himself. "A Warhammer and a bow, eh?"

"These next two are iconic weapons to my very being. This war hammer is of Orcish make and the bow, Elven; it has unique sights that I once trained with when I first began to use archery. I have to say, without them, not even the Bosmer blood within would be able to use this as well without the sights. The Warhammer had a unique ability to drain much stamina from my opponents and the bow aided me in archery, however, I only use it now when my skills are rusty and moreso than normal. As you can imagine, this hammer belonged to my father and the bow came from my mother."

"Impressive," Inigo remarked once I put away all my toys. "Quite an arsenal you have there, my friend."

"Yes, it is all thanks to my wonderful parents, too." I replied whilst struggling to sheath all my weapons in the bag I carried them in.

Inigo eyed the stash of rings, including a bone hawk ring and its matching necklace. He also spotted wolf and Dark Brotherhood armor.

"What else lies in that bag of yours?" I halted my action, knowing he found a few things he is not yet able to hear about.

"They're nothing, just more things I've collected; useless things, really." Closing the bag tight, I sat back up from the chair and focused my eyes on him, letting him know there were more important matters to discuss.

"Fair enough. I believe we got a little off track, however."

"Agreed."

"Your parents sound like rather interesting individuals with plenty of tales to tell if they were here, care to tell a few?"

"I can tell you a couple. In fact, to tell you anything else, it would be best that I do so." I had by now emptied my plate and bowl of food and my story-telling became that much more involved.

"Now, who to tell of first…"

"Why don't you start with your mother?"

"Okay, she actually has the more complicated past in terms of her appearance, anyway. Firstly, my mother, her name was Zahnna, was raised by unique parents, herself."

"So far, your family has a history of uniqueness."

"They do. And as far as all of us can tell, it began with my grandparents; on both mother's and father's side. I would have to tell of my grandparents on my mother's side before truly explaining my mother; otherwise, any additional information would be rendered useless."

"Makes sense, continue."

"My mother is actually the first hybrid in her appearance. Grandpa S'arkhu was Khajiit and grandma Aerlin was Bosmer. However, the uniqueness does not stop there." Inigo smiled, obviously connecting to his own unique foster parents.

"You see, S'arkhu and Aerlin both are blind." Before I could go on, Inigo raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yes. It was said that while they both were blind, they each had their reputation in combat despite their disability. Grandpa met her when he was assigned to kill her, which was odd considering he worked for the thieves Guild, and could not do so because her beauty bewitched him. Instead, he chose to run away with her and hide her at the border of Elsweyr and Valenhood. They lived there for a time and even when grandma found out that grandpa was meant to kill her, she knew he loved her. Across both provinces they were known as the Blind Warriors. What was remarkable about the two is that while both had no sight they somehow were granted vision of each other! It is rather odd to explain but as they told me, it was stranger being the ones under this strange spell. However, they could not see the face of their daughter, my mom, but had visions of her face in pieces every now and again."

"It does certainly sound crazy. What was Zahnna like?" Inigo asked.

"My mom was unlike any warrior I had ever seen; especially since she was born half blind! Which is unheard of and lucky considering both her parents were both blind. Her Khajiit and Bosmer blood gave her the talent of being sneaky and quiet. She rarely had ever been detected and could not only hit a middle of a target but sliced that same arrow in half with another! Naturally, when the goings got tough, she became a mysterious pick-pocket. She used daggers when she had to perform any clean and unnoticed assassinations. As you may have guessed, she was the perfect candidate for the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild. Since both were allies to an extent, she was able to work undercover to feed herself. However, the throat-slitting and stealing days came to an end when both Guilds had their fair share of decay.

She left both Guilds behind and looked for a new life some place else. At first, caravanning worked out perfectly for her; except that the items she had left over from her former days as thief and assassin were on high demand and therefore, hard to come by. She had to once again change into both suits simultaneously and collect items to earn a living on her travels. I do not recall what it was she stole, but she had stuck her nose in the wrong Bandit cave and after being unceremoniously dragged to an Orc Stronghold, she worked there as a slave.

Interestingly enough, my father had been at that exact stronghold when she had been enslaved there. But, before I continue on with them, let me explain my father's past…"

"So far, my friend, you have me like trout on a hook!" I smiled at his comment and continued.

"My father, Ghorak, is one of the most dignified Orcs you'll ever meet. He is just as proud of his heritage as the next Nord you come across. Hence why you may have heard even the littlest tale of him. If not, I will be surprised." I did not allow him to answer as his puzzled look gave it away. "Daddy is not a hybrid physically but yet he still has…conflicting bloodlines. Grandpa Maggnak was loyal to Malacath but craved for power beyond this Daedra. This displeased him, I'm sure. Still, grandpa was hunting one day with his Orcish war axe and mace and found himself upon a small but deadly pack of three Werewolves. He managed to kill one and injure another but the third was the Alpha and it, in its hunger, bit my grandfather. It was that very night that he had his first Shift and slaughtered his entire Stronghold. His hunger for power caused his first Shift to be the most intense and have the loss of self-control. After awaking to much bloodshed that even an Orc like himself could not stomach, he wandered many days in the wilderness without food or water, troubled and obviously cursed by the Great Malacath."

"I feel sorry for your grandfather." Inigo remarked.

"You should. However, even as his strength ran thin due to malnourishment, he collapsed just before my grandmother arrived."

"How convenient. What is her story?"

"Shara has a more condensed tale. She and a few other Orcs foolishly attacked a group of Vampires and they held them all down for sacrifice. Unfortnately, she was chosen to be the next Heir to Vampirism and was bit. After she was let loose, she like Maggnak was plagued with a curse from Malacath. However, unlike the hopeless Maggnak, she would continue to please both Daedra. And despite her conflict, she did. The more blood she drank, the more Molag Bol had been glorified and the more enemies taken down that were nuisances to Malacath, the more curses he could deliver upon her foes. It is interesting to note that grandfather could not pay homage to both Daedra despite the efforts."

"They both sound troubled."

"They were. It was when Shara was so hungry for blood that she found Maggnak collapsed on the ground from exhaustion. 'Tis had been an easy meal were it not for the fact that grandpa still had a fight left in him.

There was a prophecy of a day where there would be a Blood War - triggered by the Day of Crimson Skies. Prophecy states that for one day and only one day in history, there would be twenty-fours where day and night would be one. As you may have guessed, something had to turn red. A Blood Moon and Red Sun had appeared. Quite an interesting thing if you ask me. It was then that Tamriel was plagued with Lycans and Vampires running rampant killing each other. It was a Day of Hunting and Feeding.

However, even while the prophecy took hold of both my grandparents at that time, a twisting turn occurred. As they bit and clawed the other, a trance like state happened to both after their brief fight. They switched bodies, feeling what the other felt and spent the remainder of the prophesized day hunting and feeding. When they awoke, they comprehended everything there was to know of the other. Oddly, this led to their union. And this is when the whelp of my father came to being."

"Fascinating, your father was born of a prophecy?"

"I'm told, anyway."

"What of your father?"

"When my father was born, he was different, to say the least. He was a hybrid but not by appearance standards. However, he did have one silver eye and one red eye. Still, the only other dramatic features were in his beast form. He appeared like any other Lycan but has longer protruding fangs and wings. During his Shift, he hunts like any other Lycan but also drinks blood. He is affected, however, by sunlight like any other Vampire. He mostly stayed home during the day, as you might have guessed.

There were some that were suspicious in his Stronghold where he grew up as he had never lost that hound stench. Their distrust was confirmed when at his young age he nearly killed someone when his bloodlust took over during a friendly faceoff. Ghorak had to be escorted by Maggnak and Shara outside into the wilderness to keep the Stronghold from killing him.

As he foraged the land and traveled anywhere he could to survive, he eventually came across vampires who instinctively noted my father's eyes. Despite having the stench of hound on him, they included him into their lives. Ghorak felt welcomed into this new family of blood-drinkers. He went on hunts as he would normally but through his vampire blood. In light of this, his other half was calling out to him. He needed to do more than simply drink blood. He needed to answer the calling of the Moons.

There was one particular night where my father had been ordered to go on a quest on his lonesome for the first time. Ghorak had successfully defeated a group of Dawnguard members but had encountered a small pack of Lycans nearby. And at first, they were disgusted but smelled a strong scent of Lycan on him. They wanted him to join them on a hunt, also noticing the growing need to do so. Ghorak thought on this offer. His Master did not want him returning for several days to show that the Dawnguard members close by posed no threat any longer; otherwise, returning home would mean defeat and total retaliation.

Deciding to hunt with the pack, he knew he could use a belly full of flesh for the next few days. Tactfully, he lingered with his new pack mates and avoided too much suspicion for a while; even with the Silver Hand attacking the pack. That is, until his Master and a few others back at the castle appeared there. At first, Ghorak's instinct as a Lycan caused havoc among the two parties, but he saw the face of his Master before laying a claw on him (at which point, he was close to doing so; whilst being atop him, ready to feast on his body). Relenting, he informed the Pack of the identity of the group. His new packmates were less than trusting. With a few hours of explanation to both sides, my father reasoned with them, and proved his worth once and for all that they both had enemies, true rivals, they had to deal with rather than one another.

Though the Vampires thought the Lycans as filth, they listened to Ghorak's plea; as did the Lycans. Ghorak was well aware by now that in normal circumstances, the Lycan and Vampire who cross paths should never acquaint themselves on a friendly basis; nevertheless, the point made that Ghorak was no ordinary individual was clearly understood by all. The six of each group made the first ever alliance between beast and monster. And through the blood of his Orcish ways, he displayed power to them all with his axe and hammer. Indeed, they were all honored to be standing next to such a warrior. While both the Alpha and his Master were in charge of Ghorak, he led both groups under a single unit; almost becoming Alpha and Master himself. The Vampires lived within the halls of the Castle and the Lycans settled outside their Castle and into a cave nearby.

From that point forward, he led a balanced leadership with both groups; until, that is, one female from either side began to fight over him because both wanted him as partner, Ghorak did not appreciate this, even if multiple wives was an accepted thing in his culture, and when the alliance once again fell, he ran to seek shelter. Stumbling upon a hidden Stronghold filled with both Vampires and Lycans (they were separated within the Stronghold, however, to keep sparring from a minimum), he settled happily there. However, even in the midst of kin, he could not find a lady love (though, seeking refuge within this Stronghold mainly was due to needing to be around Bloodkin more than anything else). One morning, contemplating on hunting and training, there was a disturbance outside the Stronghold. Ghorak would, naturally investigate. This was when my mother had just been hauled into the Hold."

"I marvel that this isn't over yet! Keep going!"

Smiling, I carried on, saying, "My father saw my mother and at first noticed how hard she fought to be unhanded. He noticed the bandits that took hold of her were intending on more than just leaving her as a slave and he immediately rescued her from the imminent danger that would fall on her. Orcs may never meddle with outlander affairs but this was on their turf. Once the bandits were dealt with, Ghorak helped her to her feet. Zahnna had never felt so weak in her life. She and Ghorak talked of what they each have done in their lives; feeling the need to speak to someone who might listen.

For the first time, an ear was listening to listen, they both thought. It was then that Zahnna didn't feel as weak and showed her true colors once again. Ghorak noted that while she was a hybrid, she emulated alot of Orcish bravery and savagery in her anger. My father was at awe. It was then that Ghorak in his bloodlust and yet also passion for my mother that he slaughtered the entire bandit group that arranged the harm to her. The next morning he brought her back the head of the leader who ordered the operation to happen. She was moved by this strange yet loving act. This led to their love that would later be unheard of in the Stronghold.

After I was conceived, our small family traveled from place to place to trade and to offer services such protection, assassinations or forging weapons and armor for those who needed it; mostly from the Provinces of Orsinium, Valenwood and Elsweyr; the latter being the end of their trading days. It only lasted several years until they realized that in my genetic makeup there were errors - I could not withstand the heat of Elsweyr's deserts."

"I have felt the same way," Inigo said. "I have always wondered if I was Khajiit at all since sand and sun were not for me. I feel as though we were meant to leave Elsweyr, I reckon; this land needs us more."

"Agreed. My body even believed so; my parents realized that when they came to terms that I had to live…well, elsewhere." I said with a deadpan humor as Inigo got a kick out of my reference. "Anyway, they somberly let me go into Skyrim to find a colder place to live, as they knew this was the best place for me NOT to get heat strokes and the like. I indistinctly remember desert sand and rainforests. Nothing from the land of the Orcs, though. Probably because they really didn't have a place to call home and also because they lived three when I was still a newborn cub.

In any case, to make this long tale short, I found myself in Skyrim and in Solstheim and obviously now back in Skyrim, due to our encounter."

Inigo was unsatisfied.

"How tricky you are! You only told me of your bloodline and not your actual past!"

"Fret not, my friend, I WILL tell you more about me. But I know you wish to save certain things of yourself until later, yes?"

He smirked, understanding my point.

"Good, then it is agreed. I will say this, surprises may arise here and there."

"From the tales you told me thus far, I am not at all boggled. Shall we start our own adventure and later on talk more?"

"Yes. It is a good time to be doing so. First, before we officially set foot onto the open road, I must make certain to see if my fiery horse is at the Riften's stables."

"Excellent, our first adv- wait a moment, did you say, 'fiery' horse?"

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><p>This took me sooo long to finish! I can't begin to explain when I started this chapter! I put a lot of effort into this fanfiction, I had already pre-written the second chapter and I'm right now polishing it up but I won't be posting it for a while. Before I say any more, Inigo is a mod product of SmartBlueCat and I just wanted to insert him into my fanfic really bad ^^ I don't think I really could write it without him! Just like I can't play without him haha :P Anyways, this entire thing is going to be finding out who Kaaena is and her past so sit back and wait for more! It's kinda like a mystery xD Not really one that involves actual clues but whatever rofl<p>

**NEXT TIME: Meet Kaaena's steed, an old friend, and also find out what they are to discover in a mine!**


	2. Fiery Moons In the Sky

**Can't believe it took me this long to finally sit down and complete this chapter. I basically had it finished, just needed to polish it. Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Part 1: Eventide Blazing On<strong>

On our feet and out of Riften and its inn, I immediately turned my attention to the Riften Stables to see that my loyal horse was safe and sound there, waiting for me to open the doors to the outside world. Knowing my glorious equine friend, he followed the scent of hound in the air and knew where to stay. My horse is not a very aggressive creature when I am not in danger, but the look on Inigo's face the moment he laid eyes on him foretold the expression of sheer perplexity.

"Is that…your horse?" He uttered shockingly with a blank face, despite that I had clearly walked up to my mounted buddy with a friendly embrace with a gentle muzzle rub upon the horse.

"Yes, this IS my noble steed. Inigo, I'd like you to meet my horse, Blaze." I said as Blaze nickered softly in greeting.

Blaze was unusual to say the least. He looked as though he were born straight out of a volcano's belly and was formed of molten rock and lava. His hooves and eyes were white but coming off his hooves, eyes, mane, and tail were his trademark flames.

"How did you acquire such a creature? And do you really know how to ride that animal?" Inigo inquired gazing at Blaze in awe.

Mounting up, I fixed Blaze's attention to the part of the road I aimed for us to walk.

"Been riding for a long time, so yes and I'll tell you how he and I met as we travel."

At first, our quiet trip stayed quiet until a single Frostbite Spider had to go and ruin the peace. Fortunately, before I could even make it off the saddle, Inigo, in his passion for killing these beasts, dealt with it right away. Slashing it in the face with his Ebony sword, it had no chance of retaliating with its poison. Repositioning myself for more travel, I thanked him and we continued.

In our walk, a thought had occurred to me concerning Inigo.

"Inigo, you do not mind if you walk on your own two feet, yes?"

He shook his head.

"Not at all, my friend. The Gods did not give me these legs just for show," He chuckled. "Besides, he is your steed and you have a right to believe four legs are better than two. All I ask is that you don't go galloping off without me, please."

"Of course, I'll keep the speed to a minimum. He's tired anyhow. Once we find a suitable place for rest, I will set up camp, alright?"

"Naturally."

As we left the sight of Riften, Inigo began to become impatient slightly as he still deserved an answer about the tale about Blaze of Eventide. Blaze was not particularly up to cantering this evening so I decided now would be a fine time for explanation.

"I see impatience in your face, Inigo. Alright, I will speak. It all started when I was very young. My parents had been busy teaching me how to use war axes and a bow one a late afternoon, afterward, they let me run off to explore and play. As with any child from time to time, I ignored their instructions to stay close to home. I had wandered too far from home and I had been lost for days. They were worried sick about me. Somehow I managed to end up in Skyrim at the time but I was too young to know where I was – only that I was no longer surrounded by Valenwood's protection. I hadn't seen life outside of trees before so buildings and other objects had me in awe and also fear. A pair of bandits planned to use me as bait to retrieve a large wolf out of hiding – I remember this because I'll never forget the main bandit's evil smile when he said, 'You'll be a nice meal for a nice doggy.' Still frightens me to this day. I was put on the carriage tied up without putting up much of a fight and wishing I had listened to my parents. I fell asleep only to awake to the sound of the carriage halting abruptly. The bandits had been attacked by another group of bandits and when they all fled to fight somewhere else, they inattentively left me unguarded. I saw a cottage nearby and when I recalled a method for untying myself that father taught to me, I made my escape into the cottage which, at the time, I presumed was abandoned. The chickens and cow weren't much of a telltale sign of the opposite at that age.

When I entered in, I was met with an angry mage, going on something about a book he kept in his abode and how it was his and his alone. While I still have scars to prove his fiery rage, I eventually took him down with my axes. It was a long but merciless fight. Afterward, I was exhausted, too much so to leave the cottage. So instead, I made myself at temporary home for the night. Following a much needed nap, I decided to continue my relaxation with a book. The one I had picked up had an interesting horse emblem upon it-"

To which Blaze nickered in response and shook his mane about.

"-and upon further investigation, this was no mere easy read but some sort of spell book! The moment my eyes laid on their contents, there was this fire that engulfed me – all at once, the beginning of a fiery spirit was evident. I inhaled the flames and consumed their power, I felt a presence and knew instantly something was different about this book.

Dropping the book to the floor at the sound of, you guessed it, bandits, I tried to hide and survive hostility once more. To my dismay, the bandits broke into the house, looking for the legendary book that I had previously dropped. Having hidden myself under the bed of the mage, who laid dead in his living quarters, the group of bandits noticed the open book and the dead mage and deduced that the book's power had already been taken. Searching high and low, I attempted not to give away my position. But they felt the heat of the book and ultimately recovered my cowering self. They tried to drag me outside the cottage and harm me – and while I struggled to remove myself from their grasp, a fury of fire exploded and blew them away a few yards. I had blocked my field of vision due to the intense bright light that appeared all around me – and when I pulled my arms away, there stood Blaze!" I said as I pet the horse's neck lovingly – to which he shared a glance at me from the side.

By this time, we had followed the dirt path into the Fort Greenwall and passing right through its ruins, we made our way into Shor's Stone and passing its Watchtower.

"How is it that you can withstand his heat, Kaaena?"

I replied to him with a smirk, letting him know more story was to be had.

"As I was saying, there he was, standing boldly, fending off all the greedy bandits who wished to claim him as their own puppet for whatever evil matter. As they had all fell in failure, he motioned with his muzzle for me to mount him. I may have been small at that time but I learn quickly. After a few struggling minutes, I was atop him on his premade saddle and off we rode through Skyrim, to the western edge of Skyrim, towards Orisnium, where my parents were drowning in sorrow no doubt. Do not ask me how, but his soul was tied with mine when I opened that book. While you already know about the heat strokes I had in Elsweyr, Blaze was only a small reason for that issue – my thick fur was, as you know, the main cause.

Because our souls are tied, rescuer for rescuer, rider for steed, he became my very first friend. That is why I can touch his entire body and not be harmed. The flames are now one with me."

Inigo looked at me as we both were walking and he was baffled, speechless.

"What a tale! Truly remarkable! If he was tied to you, does that mean he led you home to your parents in Orsinium?"

"Yes. My father and mother were at first confused and frightened but other than missing me immensely, two things reassured them I was fine – the way the horse treated me and also the book I still carried on my person. Upon analyzing it, they understood the relationship he and I would have in the future. From then on, he's acted as my friend, protector, and obviously steed."

"It is good to hear you were reunited with them."

"It was good to be home again. This noble steed swam through icy waters and blizzards just to make sure I was safe and sound!" I laughed and embraced Blaze from the back of the neck; he was reciprocal with a snort and a tail flick.

"Luckily, there were times that when I could not bring him with me and he could not be around, and the book would act as an interdemensional realm – he would return to his fiery plane of existence until I would resummon him. But those are rare occasions."

Inigo looked at me with a laugh in his throat and nodded in understanding.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 2: By the Twin Moons!<strong>

As we pressed on, we came to a flight of stairs spread apart along a soily path.

"You know the Rift better than me, Inigo. Does this path lead somewhere?" I looked to him, to the path, then back at him pointing at its direction.

"Ah, that path. Yes, that leads to Northwind Mine. Plenty of things we could take in there." He answered.

"Good, let us investigate."

"Lead the way."

At the base of the first few steps, I got off my horse and looked him in the eyes.

"Blaze, I need you to stay right here until we get back." The horse sputtered an almost human-like scoff through his nostrils.

I patted his cheek and we followed the winding trail that led to the mine's entrance. Before we could open its doors, however, a distant roar-cry was heard.

"A scaly winged sausage is coming this way." Inigo informed me already having his bow in hand.

"I smelled it too." Copying his idea of the bow, thinking that with little ground as there is, the giant lizard may not land.

Coming into our view, the tan colored beast immediately hit us both with its Frost breath. Normally, being one with the ice and snow, this element should have had no effect on me. But for the first time possibly, I knew what it felt like to be cold. I could feel the icicles hitting my fur and eventually through it and into my skin. Chills that severed my spine nearly froze me and completely threw my archery off its game. Fortunately, I am persistent and did not give into the pain.

It appeared, though, that my noble horse was also very persistent on protecting me as well. Neighing loudly and charging at the dragon that was about fifty times its size or so, it led it back down the path where I had commanded him to stay put. My horse is a clever beast. As he took most of the beating, Inigo and I wasted no time in using our numerous arrows to pierce the scales of this formidable foe. Regrettably, our unspoken plan would have succeeded were it not for the fact that the dragon unceremoniously took air to its wings at the end of our had-been victory and fled the scene before its health was completely diminished by my team.

Not feeling thrilled with this situation, I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Damn dragon! We could have easily taken you down and looted your body! COWARDOUS FOOL!" I sighed and put away my bow.

"No matter, my friend, if we are lucky at all, treasure awaits us in this mine."

Blaze came trotting up to my side, sniffing to make sure my well-being was alright.

"Yes, yes, Blaze, I'm okay." I laughed petting him on his nose. "Be a good horse and go back where I left you. We'll be back, do not worry." With the scoffing sound again, he sauntered back to his post and I faced Inigo to respond to his comment.

"You have a point. If nothing else, we will at least find a bandit or two to squabble with."

That's the spirit!" He agreed with a joy of a child.

Entering the mine, the foul stench of ore and dirt filled our nostrils.

"I do not know about you, but I almost regret saying anything about the mine." I said covering my mouth as to not inhale the fumes or take in the strong scent.

"Yes, the mines do sometimes stink, if we ignore it, it will not bother us."

My annoyance of this mine had been made worse when some of the framing inside fell through and nearly collapsed on me. Luckily, Inigo pulled me out of the way. I gave him a look of gratitude and despite the mishap, we did not turn back.

Inside of a large room with wooden ramps, a lone Skeleton had appeared and Inigo took the first shot and scattered its bones. Another had wished to feel the sharp end of my war axe. Moving on up the ramps now, we trudged through a narrow passageway almost unscathed until my somewhat clumsy feet tripped a wire. Upon hearing cracking rock above me, I rolled out of the way. Inigo had been underneath the ruckus but came out okay. A third Skeleton failed like the previous two in killing us and we both hit him and down he went. Sharing a friendly smile, we laughed.

"Nice work my friend!" Inigo praised me.

"You also!" I replied.

We both had disappointment on our faces when we realized the hole in front of us led out to Skyrim and there were no valuables to be had. Our hopes illuminated again at the sight of a flight of stairs.

"I have not traversed into this mine and out this way before, be wary, who knows what we may find."

Walking up these steps, we came across a dragon!

"Is that the same dragon from before?" Inigo questioned,

"I don't know but if it is, we can't let it get away this time!"

"I don't think we will have a problem with that, it appears to be protecting that stone structure!" Ingo said motioning to the rounded structure diagonally in front of us to our left.

"A dragon protecting anything is not a good sign. This dragon, whether the same or different, will not be easy to defeat. Be on your guard."

"Right!"

The dragon landed on a large boulder near the steps and once again, the frost bit my veins.

"This has to be the same dragon. It wanted us to come up here! Let us deal with it!" I called out to Inigo.

"Meyus joor! Dreh ni hi mindok tol Dovah saluk ni?"*

This dragon landed and nearly biting me two times, I relentlessly used my two war axes and carved it a new face. After a few arrows from Inigo and axe wounds by my hand, the dragon lay dead; well, dead by our standards, anyway.

"You look smaller now that you are dead." Inigo said.

Smirking, I nodded and went to examine its remains. It carried 194 gold. Not bad. Other than this, nothing but his bones and scales. Before walking away, Inigo mentioned how there is a possibility to create armor from them. Not a bad idea. He offered to carry these and we carried on.

We both also took a gander at a curved wall written in a language that we could not understand. I took a look at it and it felt familiar somehow then I remembered.

"Inigo! This language here is Dovahzul!"

"Dovahzul?"

"Dragon Language, in simple terms. I once climbed the Throat of the World to the Greybeards Master just to learn it. I may not be Dragonborn but it still fascinates me." He eyed me as I touched the markings on the stone, shook his head, and sighed with a laugh. Notifying me of a chest next to the Word Wall, we opened it. Inside were useless items such as a Draught of Resist Fire and Spell Tome: Lightning Bolt. I call these items useless because neither of us would use these. Nonetheless, I knew that along with the 130 gold and the Amethyst being worth 10 less than that, all these items are worth something. Taking them all, I prepared to close the lid when Inigo spotted something in the corner of the chest.

"Wait a moment! What is that book hiding in the shadows of this treasure box?" Picking it up, he read it. "It says here something about an enchanted steel sword and talk of Lunar mumbo-jumbo." I stopped him from tossing it back into the chest and took it from him, taking interest in the subject.

"Hold on! Let me read that…" He may not know of my dark secret yet, but being proud of my Khajiit blood also fueled my interest in such matters. This could be useful to me in some way. "Interesting, according to this, there is a place somewhere in Whiterun Hold that allows weapons to be enchanted with the ability to take health from the opposition and to the user." I marveled.

"What is so great about this enchanted sword?" Inigo said in quizzical manner.

I closed the book harshly and gave him a stern look of displeasure and shock.

"Have you already forgotten my history? This Lunar Forge means something. The Twin Moons are nothing to sneeze at when you are Khajiit. And when they are full…?" I neglected to say how useful they could be on a night like that when my Lycanthropy slumbers but it almost gave way. "…When the Moons are full, I'm sure the sword is stronger." I lied.

Inigo stared at me speechless but eventually understood.

"Of course, how silly of me. Do you wish to find them, Kaaena?'

"Most certainly. I know it is a long way there but I think we ought to go."

"Very well, let us get moving."

On the saddle of Blaze now, I knew if we were to make it to Whiterun Hold before the next morning, our speed would have to increase. Although, before we could hightail it, a caravan had come our way. I, for one, could not resist greeting fellow Caravaners and did so pleasantly. Upon doing so, noticed a familiar face.

"Kharjo? Is that you, my old friend?"

"Kaaena! This one's eyes are in disbelief, as well!"

Embracing with a warm hug after climbing off my horse, I laughed heartily, happy to see an familiar face. Inigo felt very out of place, for which I could not blame him.

"How are you, Kharjo?"

"Kharjo has been hired to protect this Caravan as we walk the roads of Skyrim. It has been a thankless task and I would rather be back in our homeland, but I have little choice. As I'm sure this one remembers, my days before traveling with Caravan started after Ahkari freed me from prison in Cyrodiil and now I must repay my debt to him."

"I remember your words of advice about not mixing gambling and drink and how it will empty your pockets of every Septim, Kharjo. Even so, it has been too long since we have seen each other's faces."

"Undeniably, fair Kaaena. What adventures has this one embarked on in these last several years?"

"My life has been more than interesting. I somehow ended up becoming tangled in the Dark Brotherhood by mistake, as well as the Thieves Guild but on purpose…" As I continued to speak, I spotted Inigo drifting away a moment as to fill his need to not be left out. Though I pitied him, what I needed to say next to Kharjo without Inigo knowing was at my advantage. "…found out that I had Lycanthropy and went to the Companions in Whiterun and to a pack in Solstheim to balance my newfound ability; though, as a result of it, I had been imprisoned for several assaults as a Werewolf and my cellmate was Inigo, here." Vaguely motioning to my new friend but not enough to draw his attention. "Additionally, it turns out while during the Day of the Blood Moons, my morality and senses were taken from me, thus being the reason I took innocent lives, and in the process, nearly died by the hand of none other than my cellmate, Inigo. Lastly, we are off on a quest to find the Lunar Forge that is ironically in Whiterun Hold."

"My my, quite a tale, my dear friend."

"What about you? Anything new happening recently?" By this time, the timing of Inigo was impeccable. He, hopefully, heard nothing of my Lycanthropy and was now eager to listen once again to stories.

"The Caravan recently has been harassed by a group of bandits, as they do at every step, usually Khajiit scare them off, however, this time they were unmoving." Kharjo stated somberly.

"I reckon that they gave you trouble and stole something from you?" I remarked.

"Admittedly, yes. A few days ago, we were ambushed. A nuisance really, but many of the marauders had quick fingers. One of them stole my Moon Amulet, given to me by my mother when I was just a cub. It is my only memory of home in this cold land."

"I remember that amulet well. I will get it back for you." I could not fully empathize with him on Elsweyr, but nostalgic trinkets are another matter. Besides, he is one of my many good friends.

"You are kind to offer. We believe the bandits are a part of a group headquartered here. Be careful - I miss my amulet, but a life cannot be replaced as easily."

"Do not fret, old friend, I will retrieve your previous heirloom unscatched."

"May your roads lead you to warm sands." He began to leave off with a friendly tone before departing; though this phrase was more of a habit than anything.

"Kharjo, remembering who you are speaking to." I smirked at the male Khajiit.

"Yes, my mistake, may your roads lead you to cold sands." He laughed, unable to wrap his mind around a Khajiit not partial to Elsweyr's deserts.

"Come, Inigo, let us continue on."

"Very well."

Saying my last goodbyes to Kharjo, I hopped onto my horse, and looked down the path towards our first step on our journey.

* * *

><p><strong>Wasn't as good or as long as the last chapter but I'm happy with it! I don't have much else to say but I'm excited! Seeing how my writing patterns are, I may or may not finish the next chapter. It all depends on the remaining time and how I feel. Blaze of Eventide is a horse mod by Mitchalek.<strong>

*** Foolish mortal! Don't you know that Dragons perish not?**

**NEXT TIME:**


	3. Story Warning - Content Shifting

**Major Shift in Story – Alert:**

This is a warning for ALL my active readers of this fanfic. I've been playing skyrim, watching some youtube videos and not only was I inspired but I realized I've been going about this story all wrong. I'm trying to move outside the linear boundaries that I, as a writer, cannot do. I've tried to tell it in a narrative then out of order and that just isn't cutting it for me so I need to revamp and just think. So, with that in mind, expect this fanfiction to disappear within a month and be on the lookout for another. Not sure when I will post the first chapter, as it seems to be that hitting perfection is my main goal of this story and why I've been trying to rewrite it three times now. Please be patient with me and know that if I execute it properly, the story will be amazing. I just have to somehow overcome my limitations on scenery and situation descriptions which have been noticeably and horrifically vague – something unlike me. I could spend weeks on each chapter with how this is going. But I WILL perfect it; it's just that while my main character is the star, there are other important characters as well. But tackling their stories without boring my audience is my toughest challenge; hence the consistent drawing board act. I desperately want to get whatever it is I have in my mind onto other sources, so it will take a lot of my own patience and strength to do so. On top of this, I also have other stories to work out as well. Such as my Sonic, Sonic/Halo, and Halo fanfics, which are all of equal importance. I have to also work out not just finishing a chapter and leaving it and move onto another fanfic (prone to switch due to keeping things different) AND not put things off because of lack of inspiration or whatever. So I have some things to do. But I NEED to do this. Sonic and Halo can wait. Skyrim can't xD Either way, I need damn visual references…sorry to go on a tangent but I'm on a mission at the moment to work out a character development. I have this habit of having horrible character personality yet I can flesh out parts of past or something…weird. Anyway, just keep all this in mind. If anyone has suggestions, I'd love to hear them. Because my character's bloodline is important but to make it interesting is tough. Okay, I think that sums it up. I'll update this if need be but for now, this is all I will write until deletion. See ya.


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